I once knew a boy
Who breathed in words like air
We crafted a book together
And selected each sentence with great care

That boy was the best part of every genre
He flowed like sweet poetry,
Kept my thoughts racing like a thriller,
And never gave everything away like all good mysteries  

But that boy left cold turkey
Scrawled me a messy ending
He would never bother to rewrite
I guess that he was only pretending

I never thought you
Would pull a Mockingjay on me
Unsatisfied and bitter
Is how I will forever be

Because our love is a cliffhanger
And you pushed me over the edge
The days waiting for you like
The wind carrying ripped pages

It was anticlimactic
No closure in sight
You let go like it was nothing
While I hold on with all my might

And so you will continue
To breathe in hearts
The way you do air
To you, it's become an art

I will carry on
Gripping a jutting branch called hope
I'll pray you give me a sequel
To the romance we wrote

When you see her cry
     you get a rag,
a gentle delicate cloth.
                                        Lovingly grasp her hand
                                               and dab its tip;
                                       dry each tear as they come.
                                                           ­                               And ask each drop
                                                            ­                                   why it'd leave
                                                           ­                               such beautiful eyes.

  If she wishes
to be in the sky,
  tell her to go.
                              Take the sun ransom,
                              and replace its shining
                                    with her own.
                                                            ­          So you can see her every morning
                                                         ­                          and wish for her
                                                                ­                  return each night.

When you see her scars
  both visible and non-
    touch each gently.
                                             And remind her
                                       that each and every hurt
                                            she has survived,
                                                       ­                                 has only made her
                                                                ­                   that much more unique;
                                                         ­                              that much stronger.

  Show her that she
  is a special person
and is worthy of love.
                                     That she deserves the love
                                            she fears to give...
                                            show her so that
                                                            ­                     one day after you're gone
                                                            ­                      she can find the strength
                                                                ­                    to go on without you.

    Tell her that while
she might not be a goddess
far above worldly desires,
                                          that she is amazing,
                                         for just being herself
                                    for being that beautiful girl
                                                            ­                   who thinks herself damaged
                                                         ­                         when in truth she's just
                                                            ­                    a different kind of beautiful.

   And finally, love her.
  Like a boy loves a girl
Till she finally remembers
                                            that that's what she is:
                                          not a scar, not a goddess,
                                             not a star. But a girl.
                                                           ­                         That deserves to be loved.

Laying in an ice cold room,
IV in my hand,
I close my eyes and plead with god
Trying to understand .

" im sorry we cant save it ,
But theres a chance that you could die;
I know your in a lot of pain
And Its ok to cry ".

I feel my husband squeeze my arm,
Im trembling in fright  ,
Im sad and im defeated
And I dont have that much fight .

" Your bleeding into your belly
We need to operate right now ,
Continue to be strong for us "...
.....But i just dont know how.

A foggy conversation ,
And their whisking me away ,
My eyelids get real heavy
And i just start to pray.

Waking up to quiet ,
Im tired and im sore ,
Depressed without a baby
On the maternity floor.

God must have a plan for me
That i just can not see ;
Even through our struggles
Whats meant to be ...
Will be .

If I trust
my intuition I will never die.
If it's a
crooked institution I won't
ever hide.
Say it's sold,
say it's told to us,
I won't ever fold to it.

This is the new way,
this is full on mastery
of a hidden language,
feeling
the part you **** with
and being oh so...
languid.

Did it
ever occur
in
history?

In the
purple sky?

Probably
not.

Don't hate me.
Blame your
freedom for letting me
cover up folly
with pride,
set good
taste aside,
and be this waste.

There was once a small girl who sat at the park
A place of refuge when her world was in the dark
Her flowing brown hair was beginning to thin
Still nobody cared about the struggle within
Bags under her dismal eyes from such deprivation of sleep
Because she counted crunches when she couldn't count sheep
She swayed on the swings to forget all her strife
Until there came the day when she ended her life
If only someone knew that her friends had left her
Stranded like an angel fish in the middle of a desert
She wouldn't have been bothered by the pressure to be perfect
And maybe she wouldn't have thought starving was worth it

Don't ever fall in love with a poet
because they will indeed admire and watch your every move
they will write about how the pen marks on the side of your palm when you write
don't ever because they will trace
every single freckle you have on your face and
write about the color of each and every one of them and
describe how they smile so brightly under the sunlight
they will want you to want to know every little thing about them
even if it's just what hand they write with and want you
to be wondering why they write with that specific hand when in
reality it doesn't even matter

the poet will watch the way you dig
your eyes onto that book and your small quick remarks onto the 26 letters all crumpled together and will know that everyday at 5:28 p.m. you smile

they will look deeply into your eyes
to see if they can at least take a little
peak of your soul and they will write
about you like if you were the only
thing they see good in this world

they will want to know what you think
about when you look at them and
see if you also count each and
every freckle and hope and write  
that you do but they will
love you endlessly and they will
show you that they love you and only you

but don't date a poet if you aren't
capable to watch them and
admire their imperfections
when they sleep late at night
beside you.

j.f

Forget his name
Forget his face
Forget his kiss
His warm embrace
Forget the love that you once knew
Remember that he has someone new
Forget him when they played your song
Remember him when you cry all night long
Forget how close you once were
Remember its someone else he perfers
Forget how you memerized his walk
Forget how you love to hear him talk
Forget the things he use to say
Remember that he has gone away
Forget his laugh
Forget his smile
Forget that he stayed awhile
Forget the way he held you tight
Remember that hes not alone tonight
Forget the time he loved you still
Forget he said he always will
Forget he said he'll leave you never
Remember the fact, hes gone forever